


free and hungry

by TheEbonHawk



Category: Mirror's Edge
Genre: F/F, Financial Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sex, Internal Conflict, Light Angst, Non-Explicit Sex, Pre-Canon, may be edited later but i really don't have time for that rn lmao, not edited, working title was rain.jpg which i think is funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 07:15:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10531554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEbonHawk/pseuds/TheEbonHawk
Summary: Celeste isn't happy. But Faith gets her a little closer.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you read, and a kudo if you liked it! Thank you!

When there was no job for her and she felt like shit, Celeste would almost always end up sitting in some alley near Drake’s place, on the dumpster or some boxes, silently brooding all by herself and smoking a cigarette if she could afford it.

And almost always, to the point of inspiring intense disappointment if this failed to be true, Faith would find her. Not right away, not before her cigarette was at least half finished, because even Faith couldn't read her mind or pinpoint her location like a satellite, but eventually she'd be there. 

Eventually she'd show, Cel told herself, with her rain-soaked clothes and hair and her aching back pressed against the concrete wall behind her and her toxic smoke filling the far too clean alley. She'd be here before Celeste got bored and left, climbing her way back up onto the rooftop, the slippery surface offering a challenge as she found her way home.

Celeste inhaled her cigarette, removed it from her frowning mouth, and exhaled smoke. She eyed with a bitter glare the opposite wall, the clean, sterilized, boring white, the only color a red runner’s tag that would soon be painted over. _Don't you dare not show,_ she griped. _This day has been bad enough._

Faith didn't show for fifteen more minutes, arriving after Celeste's cigarette was already done and discarded, preceded and announced by her running footsteps which alerted Celeste of her approach just in time to stop her standing up, pulling her sullen self up the wall and going home alone.

 

Celeste cast a look to her left as Faith dropped heavily onto the dumpster there, crossing her legs and greeting Celeste with a small, calm smile. Rather than return the greeting, Celeste feigned indifference, breaking eye contact and throwing her cigarette butt onto the floor of the alley before verbally acknowledging her. “Took you a while to show up. I was about to leave.”

“I had a job,” Faith said. Unlike Celeste, for whom resentment colored every remark, her tone was neutral, though she had reason enough to be impatient. Faith could get pretty angry under the right circumstances, but especially when it came to Celeste, she was usually pretty zen.

Celeste sighed at the reply, shifting forward to sit lower on the wall, slouching. “Lucky you.”

Faith frowned. She pushed strands of dark, rain-soaked hair out of her face and stared at her friend. “Things are rough right now. People are laying low, not hiring like usual. It'll pass.”

Celeste grimaced. She wished she had another cigarette, even though she definitely couldn't afford more than one a day. Who knew when she'd be able to restock? “And in the meantime, I go hungry?”

Faith turned and reached into the bag slung over her shoulder. She pulled out two paper-wrapped burgers from a shitty fast food chain and set one on Celeste’s lap. “You won’t go hungry. We take care of each other.”

Celeste unwrapped the burger and began to eat it, unable to ignore her hunger a moment more than she had to. She was silent until both she and Faith had finished eating. “I appreciate that. But at some point, we all have to be able to take care of ourselves.” Frowning, she crushed the paper food wrapper into a ball and threw it across the alley. “Besides...I don’t want this kind of life. Struggling for work, for food, living in shitty abandoned places. Why can’t we aim for security instead of just survival?”

She looked at Faith, waiting for her answer, her reaction.

Faith was thoughtful but quiet. She chewed and swallowed the last of her food, wrapped up the paper and set it beside her, and considered. Eventually she said, “It comes with the job.” She met Celeste’s eyes, serious and pensive. “I think we all want more sometimes, but living free in this city, living above the police and the cameras in the streets, even running...it has trade offs. You either sell your soul to the corporations, or you live free and hungry.” She blinked a raindrop out of her eye and shrugged. “I’ll take free and hungry.”

Celeste stared at her for a long moment. Then she sighed and stood, turning to the wall behind them. “I guess I’m not as resilient as you, Faith.” She pulled herself up onto the rooftop, looked down from her perch. “You coming?”

Faith stood and grabbed Celeste’s hand, letting her friend pull her up the wall and onto the roof next to her. They stood there on the building top for a moment, looking out on their city, blanketed in natural darkness but pulsing with electric light. Then, wordlessly, Celeste began running, and Faith followed.

 

As usual, they ran at a relentless pace, pushing themselves at every moment. They both preferred it that way. Felt more alive.  

Celeste forced herself to run so hard she forgot her hunger, her dissatisfaction: all she needed to feel right now was her pulse as she darted across rooftops, jumped gaps, slid under tall vents, worked her way home without slowing down. The thrill reminded her why she was a Runner and not some desk worker.

By the time they arrived at Celeste’s apartment, she had outrun Faith and left her a few yards behind. She waited on the roof of her building for Faith to catch up: when she did, she slid her hand into Celeste’s again.

Celeste smiled and led her down onto the fire escape: they climbed into the building through a broken window, holding hands the entire time.

The room was dark when they got in, landing on the faux wood floor that was warped by water damage and torn away in patches. It was one of a few abandoned buildings not renovated or more likely destroyed by city officials and the companies that owned the majority of the real estate.

 

Celeste flopped down on the bed, pulling Faith with her. The thin mattress, non-existent lights, and musty smell of her home made her frustration come back again. It was clean as she could keep it, and it was a place to rest, but...

Faith tugged on her shirt, distracting her. She leaned down and gently kissed Celeste, her hand moving under the hem of Cel’s red tank. When Celeste reciprocated, her hand finding its way to the back of Faith’s head, Faith pushed her hand upward, moving the fabric to slowly expose Celeste’s torso. After a moment of quiet, slow kisses, Faith moved away and pulled Celeste’s shirt over her head, following up with her own.

Celeste took the opportunity to undo her bra, throwing it on the ground next to her shirt, and put her hands on Faith’s bare waist. She kissed her girlfriend’s torso as she finished undressing, and then Faith was lying next to her, naked, stripping away the last of her armor and pulling her close.

 

She made sex feel like running: thrilling, lively. A reason to keep going.

 

Faith was a reason. She was the embodiment of contentment and freedom. She didn’t settle; she made herself tough, and she ran hard, and she lived in spite of the obstacles. She was happy not because she had more than others, but because she kept moving forward.

It was inspiring, Celeste thought, with the woman’s tongue in her mouth, her own fingers between Faith’s thighs. It gave her perspective.

It would never be enough. Perspective wouldn’t bring electricity to her house, or food to her mouth, or a steady income.

 

But as long as she had Faith, she could at least say it was better than nothing.


End file.
